GhiraFi Week
by Debochira
Summary: Hello! This is from a tumblr prompt supporting GhiraFi as made by Z-Raid. Check out her art on deviantART and tumblr! Rating is for future prompts. Cover art by Z-Raid.
1. Achromatic

"Mm, this is delicious tea," said Midna. She lowered her steaming cup with a smile. "I don't even like tea usually, Fi, but this may just convert me."

Fi nodded her head. She sat beside Midna and Zelda on a cool Saturday afternoon on the back patio of Fi's house. In her human form, Fi's sky blue hair waved in the breeze. "I learned the recipe from Ghirahim. He enjoys the beverage and so I decided to give it a try. … It too convinced me to have tea more often."

"Where is he, anyway?" asked Midna. "I'm surprised he could detach from you for this long."

Fi sighed. "You promised."

"I know, I know," said the Twilight Princess with a returned sigh. She sipped her tea. "You didn't answer my question, though."

"He only told me that he had to run an errand with Zant and that he would be back shortly."

Midna rolled her eyes, catching Zelda hiding a smile behind her teacup. "Hey! You know something!"

"I only have theories," said Zelda. "Conjectures, really."

"Spill, Z."

"Hm, you know how I detest that nickname."

Fi raised the flap of her sleeve. "Please, no arguing in my home. _Or_ on the back porch of it, Midna."

"Bleh."

"I am interested in hearing your theories, Your Grace," said Fi.

Zelda gave her a polite glare as only a woman of her wisdom could. "You know how I detest being called that as well, Fi."

"Eee hee hee! What _don't_ you detest, _Princess?"_

"We are getting off topic," said Zelda with a decadent sip of her tea. "Fi, you and Ghirahim attended the festival last night along with the rest of us. What sort of activities did you two partake in?" She slapped Midna's index finger away from the handle of her tea cup. "Other than that."

Fi leaned back in her chair. "Ghirahim won a stuffed animal for me in the test-your-might contest-"

"By breaking it," grumbled Midna.

"Ahem. Then we took a walk near the fountain, he bought me a cotton candy that I could not hold, we went on the Ferris wheel, we kissed as the fireworks went off-"

"Something else went off, I bet."

"Midna, please."

"Ahem. We tried some of Darunia's rock souffle, we danced at the Romani Rodeo, we took a pictograph, I pleasured him behind the Bomb-Bomb-Dodongos-"

Midna spit her tea out and pounded her chest to stop the coughing. "What?! EW, I was kidding, Fi!"

Fi sipped her beverage with a small smile. "That was a joke. Anyway, we rode the King of Red Lions boat ride, and then we went home."

"I see," said Zelda. "Perhaps he is retrieving the pictograph you took last night. It takes a day to develop, after all."

Midna snorted. "Why would he take Zant with him, then? It's just one picto-"

Beside her, Ghirahim exploded into existence with a burst of diamonds. "Bluebird, you're home!" He took a deep breath through the nose. "And you made my special tea!"

"Hello, Ghirahim," said Fi. She gave him a hug and a kiss (despite Midna's groan of disapproval). "Did you complete your errand?"

Beaming, Ghirahim covered her eyes and led her inside the house with Midna and Zelda following behind. "I did, Bluebird, and you're going to adore it. Oops! Mind the coffee table."

"What is the purpose of covering my eyes?" asked Fi. "We have pictures all around the house, Ghirahim. A pictograph will not surprise...," he lifted his hands, "me..."

There, with Zant holding it up, was a black and white pictograph of Fi and Ghirahim. It was nearly as tall as Fi herself. She was holding the stuffed penguin that Ghirahim won at the festival with him holding her securely in his arms. He had told her to smile at the pictobox, and she managed a small one, but Ghirahim...

Ghirahim was smiling at her. His eyes, grayed by the black and white filter, were on Fi and only Fi. They had taken many pictures, to be sure, but those pictures were taken in the spur of the moment with little planning or preparation. The smiles and laughs were heartfelt and loving, but in this pictograph... Ghirahim looked genuinely happy, and Fi looked happy as well.

And that made Fi happy now. She turned around and gave Ghirahim a kiss on the lips. "I love you."

"I love you too, Bluebird."

"Aaand we'll call it there for the day," said Midna.

* * *

This was done for GhiraFi week over on Z-Raid's tumblr. Her art is amazing, you should check it out! You may even see some commissions of _The End of All Things..._


	2. Sword Fight

Caution: Violence and Character Death.

* * *

It was the Great War begun anew. The mad sorceress Cia had grievously miscalculated just how powerful a sword spirit like Fi was as she glided through a horde of Bokoblins, cutting them down like wheat on the first day of harvest. She had been sent to capture the southern shrine while Link and Lana went for the eastern and western shrines, respectively, but Cia was cruel.

"Ahh... Bluebird."

Very cruel.

Fi halted at the entrance to the shrine and crystalline eyebrows furrowed. "Ghirahim... You should not have come here."

The Demon Lord took a dramatic bow and brandished his black sword. "Really, I think I may cry from such a barb. Why the hostility, Bluebird?"

"Stop calling me that," said Fi. "You gave up the right to that privilege when you abandoned Her Grace-"

"AFTER ALL THIS TIME, YOU STILL CLING TO THAT PRETENTIOUS FALSE GODDESS?!" Ghirahim cut a Bokoblin down in his rage. "She used us as _tools!_ How can you defend her, _Fi?!_ HOW?!"

Fi was faster that Ghirahim remembered, for her heel was already flying at his throat. Ducking under, he threw a dagger at her exposed back and heard the _cling_ as it bounced off. Fi charged divine power into her body and charged, sending the Demon Lord flying into the far wall.

"I defend Her Grace," said Fi, "because she never abandoned me. Perhaps your narcissism has blinded you as it blinds Cia now."

Ghirahim wiped blood from his lip. "Well, so you do hold grudges, Bluebird. I offered you the chance to join me, or do you not recall?" A flash of diamonds preceded Ghirahim's attack to Fi's side.

"I recall everything." She backflipped and scored a mark on the Demon Lord's face. "Every last word... and every kiss and touch that went with them."

Ghirahim took a step back. Fi left a bleeding cut on his cheek, but at least his hair covered it. "You must absolutely revel in being on the side of light, Bluebird. I've half a mind to suggest that this is your dream fantasy."

"To see you again, yes," said Fi. She shook her head. "Not under these circumstances."

"Under what, then?" he asked with a lick of his lips.

"Do not attempt to seduce me or your death will be more painful than necessary."

Ghirahim chuckled and enveloped himself in darkness. When it faded, the Demon Lord stood in his pure form, a cruel reminder of who and what he was. His sword mutated into a broader and more terrible weapon made for cleaving. "The red thread of fate binds us, Fi. Can you not understand?"

"... I understand perfectly." Fi charged with divine light enshrouding her, the Royal Crest emblazoned before her. Ghirahim matched the attack with a parry and brought his knee into Fi's stomach just below her soul diamond. While it did cause her pain, Fi was not one to be brought down with one attack.

The younger spirit used the momentum created by Ghirahim's knee and wrapped her legs around his neck. She had not intended on distracting him in such a way, but it proved an unexpected advantage that allowed her to flip him end over end into the ground. His body clanged against the stone floor as he rolled to a stop, face broiling with anger. One hand was pressed against his chest where his soul diamond was scratched.

"DAMN YOU!" Ghirahim summoned circles of daggers around Fi, their sharp edges barring her escape sideways and vertically. The divine servant created a ring of flower petals and began to sing something that tore Ghirahim's heart asunder. It was the same melody she often sang when she thought no one was watching, the melody that had captivated the Demon Lord from the very beginning.

The daggers disappeared, vaporized by the power of the song, and Fi flew at Ghirahim, but he was faster. His hand caught her by the neck and he slammed her against the wall. "DAMN YOU, FI!"

"Whatever happened to Bluebird?" asked the only person who could get away with such mockery. "If your hatred runs deep enough, then do it."

Ghirahim raised his sword. "I _will_ do it, Fi." His fangs glistened in the fire light cast from the nearby brazier. "I will _kill_ you."

According to Fi's internal clock, sixty seven seconds passed after that sentence. "Based on your motor functions, skin temperature, and emotional state, I calculate an eighty-three percent chance that you will not strike me down."

Ghirahim tightened his grip on her neck. His face contorted in a hateful snarl, but the sword had yet to fall. A single tear rolled down his onyx cheek. "Please, Fi... don't make me do it..."

"If you ever loved me, you would not have put me in the position of your enemy," whispered Fi. She reached up with the empty sleeve of her cloak, the same cloak Ghirahim bought her forever ago, and wiped the tear away. "I loved you, Ghirahim. I loved you with all my heart... and then you broke it."

"N-no, I..." He released her but did not back away. "... I did... I broke your heart, Fi..."

Fi nodded. "I forgave you thousands of years ago. You were right about me, about us." She smashed her head into his, denting his nose and her skull, then used the distraction to plant her heel firmly in his soul diamond.

Ghirahim screamed, crimson and gold energy pouring from the cracks in his chest. His sword returned to its normal size, allowing him to impale Fi in her soul diamond in return.

The spirit gasped at the unfamiliar sensation of something intruding in her chest cavity. Both immortal weapons fell to their knees and back, respectively, and Fi looked down at the sapphire and gold energy that oozed from the fatal wound.

She was dying. It was a peculiar feeling, like falling asleep, only quicker. She did not even realize that she was laying down until Ghirahim's hand brushed against her cheek.

"In the end, we were meant to destroy each other..."

The energies from Fi and Ghirahim merged together, though like the love between them, it soon detonated with divine and demonic power, wiping the shrine of both good and evil.

In the end, Cia was defeated and peace was restored to Hyrule... but at great personal cost.

Fi gave her life so that Hyrule could live, so that Her Grace could live... so that her friends could live.

She would not have had it any other way.


	3. Scars

Caution: Depression and Sadness. I had a very bad day today.

* * *

It was a bad day. Fi was alone in her home, which was not unusual since she was the only one who lived there, but she wished she had someone with her, anyone. It could have been Ganondorf for all she cared, just someone. It was a bad day.

"Hellooo! Anyone home?" called a certain Twilight Princess. Her bare foot crossed the threshold of Fi's house as she let herself in, a common occurrence. "Come on, you can't hide from me forever!" With a giggle, she plopped down on the sofa. "I'll wait for you, then."

Midna smirked when she heard laughing in the nearby room, Fi's bedroom. Her smirk vanished when she realized that she heard _laughing_ from Fi's bedroom. A soft knock preceded her entrance. "Fi? What's going on?"

"Nothing!" said the sword spirit. She stood up and kept her back to Midna. "I am fine, thank you. What brings you here?"

The curtains were closed, shutting out the afternoon light, but Midna could see in the dark. She was born in it, after all. Fi was trembling and her shoulders hitched with every breath. Her cloak, the one she almost never removed, was on the floor in front of her. It was covered in wet stains.

She was not laughing.

A pale blue hand touched Fi's shoulder. "What's going on?"

"Please do not insist..."

"Trust me."

 _"Trust me." He said those words to her once, twice, thrice. She did trust him, and so she took his hand and let him lead her to the shade of a young Deku Tree. It was more than enough to cover them from the high noon sun, not that either were vulnerable to such a mortal fret as sunburn._

 _Fi sat on her legs and leaned against him. "This is... nice."_

 _"My, Bluebird, is that a blush?"_

 _"Stop it."_

 _He chuckled and brushed a finger against her cheek. "You look so cute when you're flustered. It is a rather beautiful day, as you eloquently put."_

 _"I... was not referring to the day," said Fi. "I was referring to being here... with you." She looked up at the sky. "I worry... I worry that this will not last forever, that we will... grow apart."_

 _His white-gloved hand grasped hers. "It will, Bluebird. We are immortal, and you couldn't get rid of me if you tried."_

 _Fi gave him a rare smile. "I have tried. I would like us to remain together."_

 _"We will. I promise."_

But they did not remain together. They grew apart, just as Fi had feared, and he left the side of light... he left her.

It was a bad day, because it was _that_ day.

The day he left her, the day he scarred her.

"Fi?"

She turned around, eyes red and puffy, and did not bother to wipe the tears on her cheeks. "H-hello, Midna..." She made a weak attempt to leave the room, but Midna held her by the shoulders.

"Fi..."

"Why...?" whispered the spirit. "Why did he leave me?" She looked down at her feet. "... What did I do wrong?"

Midna pulled her into a hug, and a bit of sadness dripped into her hair. "You didn't do anything wrong, Fi... You didn't do anything wrong..."

"I-I cannot hug you," said Fi. "I want to hug you, but I cannot..."

Midna shook her head, lifted Fi up, and floated onto the bed with the poor spirit on top of her. "It's alright, Fi... It's alright..."

Fi used her magic to manipulate the blanket into a pair of pseudo-arms and grappled Midna. She clung to the Twilian and shook with timeless sobs. "Why was I not good enough...?"

"You were more than good enough," said Midna. She reached up and stroked Fi's hair. "You did nothing wrong, Fi, nothing at all."

"My chest hurts." Her breath was sharp and shallow, hiccuping once every few gasps. "I-I hurt..."

Midna squeezed her and kissed the top of her head. They were as close as sisters, and seeing Fi in such a miserable state was unacceptable... but Midna knew she could not heal this wound. She could only hold Fi and let her cry herself to sleep. That was Midna's duty as a friend and confidante, to be there for Fi when she needed a friend, not try to mend her scars.

Not all scars are on the surface.


	4. A Night of Memories and Sighs

Ghirahim sighed as he crawled into bed. Today was a bad day. Not only did he fail to procure the pearl as Ganondorf ordered, but he saw her on the battlefield. She was every bit as graceful and beautiful as he remembered her...

But she had no arms.

He remembered her having arms. He remembered everything about her, from the way her hair poofed up at the top to the click-click of her heels on stone. She had arms, but not anymore.

Ghirahim certainly had nothing to do with that, he was in a separate location entirely, but... he remembered Fi walking without a limp. She was still magnificent in battle and danced with deadly grace, though, and that brought a smile to Ghirahim's face.

He certainly had good taste.

Fi was a beautiful, intelligent, dedicated, and loyal woman. She could be boring as all get out, but her heart was in the right place.

Ghirahim sighed and hugged his pillow. He remembered how warm Fi felt in his arms, how snug and comfortable she was, how lovely she looked on the rare occasions when he convinced her to sleep.

Had it been that long since they parted ways beneath their favorite tree, that long since he left her to serve Master Demise?

… Was it worth it?

The memory of seeing, of hearing Fi's disapproval haunted Ghirahim's dreams. He had heard her moan, whisper, and pant many times over, but that was the first time he ever heard her beg. She pleaded for him not to go where she could not follow, but he went anyway.

Today was a bad day, because it was _that_ day.

It was the day he abandoned her, and the memories tortured him ever since.

With a sigh, he clapped his hands. The lights dimmed, leaving Ghirahim alone in his memories.


	5. Guilt

"What a crock," grumbled Ghirahim as he stalked around his lair. "That pointy-eared, clover-leafed, sword-swinging brat! How dare he come between me and my master!" A bookshelf suffered his wrath and collapsed with burnt pages on top. "How dare he bring... her." So much for that sorceress' grand scheme of time displacement.

The Demon Lord slowed down and looked in the full-body mirror. "How long has it been? Three, four thousand years?" He never aged, so he looked exactly the same as he did the day he was forged.

Did she look the same? The reflection in the mirror proved that she indeed was no different now than she was then.

"Ghirahim."

Time stood still with baited breath. That voice was not what he had hoped to hear after the terribly dreadful day he just had. He analyzed her reflection and studied the subtle hints of body language. Technically, Ghirahim was as smart and calculating as her, he was just lazier about it.

"Your shoulders have little form," said the Demon Lord. "Your sleeves are empty."

She nodded. "I was caught off-guard. Both of my arms were lost and I died, though Her Grace managed to restore me in time."

Ghirahim looked at her with wide eyes. "You... you died...?"

"Yes," said Fi. "Were it not for the person you described as 'intolerable', 'pretentious', and 'inclined to think through her anal cavity', I would be dead right now. And you would have never even known." Was that... bitterness in her voice? Could she even feel that?

He looked away, but his subconscious failed him by focusing on an old pictograph of them at a festival. Achromatic, Fi had labeled it. "Why are you here?"

"I want to be free of you," said Fi, "the way you so obviously are free of me."

"You call this free?!" He smashed a hand through the nearest wall. "You call living like this free?! You cannot possibly understand how it feels to be burdened by the memories of the past, because you're dead inside!"

Even Fi's cool blue skin could not hide the hurt on her face. "... I cannot hug anymore." Ghirahim turned to face her, tears running down his cheeks. "I cannot open a door anymore. I cannot read books anymore. I cannot feel anything below my shoulders but phantom pain... But I _can_ do this." She used the sleeve of her cloak to slap Ghirahim across the face. "I may be dead inside, but that was your doing. Perhaps if you had not seceded from Her Grace, you could have been there to protect me... like you promised.

"Goodbye, Ghirahim. May you live forever with the memories of what you have done."

The Demon Lord reached for her, but she was already gone. He looked in the mirror and found not a single red mark on his face.

Evidently the guilt he felt hated him as much as he did.


End file.
